Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that belongs to WEP or Paramount. What I do own are the crew of the Berlin, (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter, Thunderwing, and the story itself.
Yes, dear friends, I'm back. My master's project is finished, and I graduate May 6. I've got this and two more chapters written in a notebook, and I hope to do some more posts within the next week or so. As always, thanks for the great reviews.
Star Tron: Hidden Dangers
Chapter 8
After their ordeal at Shavena, The Voltron Force returned to the Castle of Lions tired and shaken. Most of them headed for bed, but Keith was restless. He sat down at his desk, his mind whirling in confusion. This attack didn't make sense. Until now, the Konogg Brigade had operated in conjunction with attacks from space. Also, they'd struck almost exclusively around the Starfleet engineers in Olessa. The raid on Shavena was the first time the Konogg Brigade had hit militarily significant targets. The attack simply didn't fit with anything they'd done before.
But what did it mean? What was the point of changing their tactics? Maybe they knew the Voltron Force could track their fighters. No, that wasn't likely. Perhaps they'd realized that there was nothing in Olessa of any military value, and were going after a better target.
Or maybe the Doom commander realized that they were expecting attacks on Olessa, and wanted to throw them a curveball. It was exactly the sort of move Keith should have anticipated, because it was exactly what he'd have done in the same situation.
He growled in frustration. He had to admit that whoever was in charge of the Konogg Brigade was good. Even after the attack on Shavena, he'd escaped without leaving a clue about where to. Once again, the Voltron Force had no way to counter the attacks.
But there was something gnawing at the back of his mind about all this. Something ominous. Why target supply and infrastructure, then switch to military targets? Why switch from relatively strategic targets, to the obviously tactical?
Keith could only find one answer, and he didn't like it.
His door chime broke his train of thought. Wearily, he rose to his feet and answered the door.
Lance looked back at him from the hallway. "You're doing it again, Cap."
"And what's that?"
"Beating yourself over the head trying to figure out their next move," Lance replied, stepping into the room. "Face it, Keith, you just can't predict these guys. They hammered us every day for weeks, then we get a few days off, and now half a town's gone. How could you have expected that?"
Keith rubbed his eyes and sighed. Trudging over to his desk, he turned the chair to face Lance and flipped down. "I should have known something was up."
"Okay, maybe. But how could you have known about this? How were we supposed to know they had a submarine? Hell, Keith, until now, we didn't know Lotor even used subs."
Keith didn't answer. Lance was right, he knew, but still, there had to be something he could have done. Something he could do now.
"Keith, remember we don't have a whole lot to work with. This isn't Earth. This is a planet that the Drules devastated, and is just starting to rebuild. In the meantime…"
"We have to do the best we can with what we have," Keith finished. That was it. They were doing the best they could, but there was just no way to prepare for every possibility.
He nodded, then got up and walked over to Lance. "You're right."
Lance nodded, smiling smugly. "Of course I am."
"Don't let it go to your head," Keith chided lightly. "If it swells any more, you'll never fit it into Red's cockpit."
Lance looked at him sideways, "Et tu, Keith?"
"Darn straight. Now get outta here. I've got work to do."
Lance headed for the door. "Don't work too hard. You're grouchy enough at practice as it is." He ducked out the door and was gone before Keith could reply.
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The next morning confirmed to the Voltron Force that their respite was over. As morning twilight began to spread across the land, the Castle alarms went off, summoning the five pilots to the Control Room.
"What's happening, Coran?" Keith asked as he ran into the chamber. The others were seconds behind him.
"Enemy fighters are attacking Olessa," Coran replied. "I'm tracking their turbulence patterns, and there appear to be four of them"
Keith turned to Hunk and Pidge. "How far did you get on the modifications?"
"Black's done, but we haven't had time to test it," Pidge replied.
"Well, it's about to get tested." He took in the others with a sweeping glance. "Lance, Hunk, Pidge, come with me. Allura, stand by in case they launch another attack somewhere else." He turned to Coran. "Is Adam coming?"
"Not yet," Coran replied.
"If he calls in, tell him to orbit over the castle in case we need Allura."
Allura cast an angry glance at Keith as she crossed her arms in an all-too-familiar gesture of frustration. Still, she had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that Keith's plan made sense.
Moments later, the boys were gone, and the four Lions were streaking toward Olessa.
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But Allura wasn't the only one watching the Lions depart. From the still-dark forest near the castle, Commander Torka watched the Lions fly off.
Soundlessly, he motioned his troops forward, and the small group of commandos headed for the Castle of Lions.
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On the way to Olessa, Keith turned on and checked his new sensors, and was relieved to see four dots on his screen where localized heavy turbulence indicated the presence of the fighters. At least they would be able to see their enemies this time.
"Guys, I'm going to send you my sensor feeds, so you can see 'em too. Remember all positions are relative to me, so stay close."
"Right," said Hunk.
"Okay, Chief," said Pidge.
"Got it," Lance replied.
A fighter decloaked right in front of the Lions and began a strafing run on the village. Two houses were burst into flames as the fighters' lasers tore into them. Hunk and Pidge fired at the fighter as it cloaked, but scored no hits.
Keith looked at his sensors. The fighter was pulling around in a hard turn, low over the rooftops. The other three appeared to be setting up attack runs.
Keith was about to order Lance, Pidge, and Hunk to go after the three preparing their attacks, when they suddenly broke off, making for the outskirts of Olessa.
Keith pulled Black Lion into a loose turn toward them. He didn't want to reveal yet that they could see through the cloaks.
"Keith, behind you!" Lance warned. Keith looked at his sensors and saw that the first fighter had unmasked and was coming at him from behind, above and to the left. He turned hard, trying to evade as Red Lion swooped in, ramming the fighter as it pulled up to avoid colliding with Keith.
The damaged fighter tumbled away for a few seconds before righting itself and turning back toward the Voltron Force.
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Razin shook his head as his ship came out of its tumble. He knew his cloak was gone, and he didn't dare return to base without it. He turned toward Black Lion as a fatalistic attitude possessed him. He was a dead man, but if he had to go, he wasn't going alone.
Ramming his throttle to maximum, he charged directly at Black Lion, his shrill battle cry splitting the air in the cabin.
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"Look out, Keith!" Pidge shouted, seeing the fighter launch its kamikaze attack.
Keith stood his ground as the smoking craft approached. Closer, he thought, closer… Now!
He pulled hard on the control yokes, prompting Black Lion into a leap skyward. The fighter passed just inches below him as the Lion whirled and struck, its great steel fangs closing on the upper fin, crushing it and ripping the laser cannon away. Black tossed his head violently, sending the doomed fighter up and away. It tumbled once, twice, and exploded as it plowed into the ground.
Lance grinned. "Score one for us!"
"Keith, the others are running," said Pidge.
Before Keith could answer, Coran's voice cut across the comm. "Voltron Force, return to the… Argh!"
"Coran? Coran?" Keith called. No reply. "Guys, let the fighters go. Everyone back to the castle, now!"
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It took only a few minutes for the pilots to land their Lions and return to the Control Room. When they got there, Coran was jut coming to. One set of heavy blast doors was caved in and hanging from its track, and there were scorch marks on the floor and laser burns in the walls and on the center console.
"Coran, can you hear me?"
Coran looked around groggily, and nodded. "Yes, Commander."
"What happened?" Keith asked, helping the old advisor to his feet.
Coran shook his head. "I don't know. We were watching you, then there was an explosion. Drules…"
"The Princess!" Keith blurted. "Coran, where's the Princess?"
"They took her. The commandos, they came in and took her."
Keith leapt to the control console. "Castle Control calling Starship Berlin. Priority-one emergency. Come in, over."
"Keith, what's wrong?" Adam asked as his face appeared on the big main screen. "Where's the Princess?"
"Gone. The Konogg Brigade just raided the castle. They took her."
"En route," Driscoll replied, and the communication cut.
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Aboard the starship, Captain Driscoll bolted from his command chair. "Mike, move the ship into geosynchronous orbit over the castle. Mordock, begin scanning for a group of humanoids heading away from the castle."
Driscoll's orders were obeyed without a word as Driscoll himself headed for the turbolift. Gredar hadn't arrived yet, so Driscoll turned back to Mordock. "Turn the scan over to your relief, Lieutenant. You have the bridge."
Mordock nodded and moved to the command chair as an ensign moved from an auxiliary console to the science station.
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The Starfleeters and the Voltron Force searched for hours from land, air, and space, but found no trace of Allura or the commandos. The only clue was a turbulence signature recorded by the castle's sensors heading east, toward Shavena. But it eventually disappeared below the horizon, and Keith's attempts to find it again with Black Lion met with no success.
Keith now knew his suspicions were right. The invasion was imminent.
Lotor wouldn't want Allura harmed, but he would want to collect her quickly after the battle, so he sent his commandos after her. Now, not only did he have Allura, Voltron was out of the picture.
The pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place, and for once, Keith wished they hadn't.
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On Citrine II, a lone, hooded figure stole through alleys and shadows in the slave quarters. It was past curfew for his work shift, and the guards would be most suspicious and unforgiving if they caught him. Of course, they'd be right. Tonight, he'd been up to all kinds of no good, from the Doom point of view.
Reaching his destination, Michael quickly slid through the door and into a darkened room, bolting it behind him. He pulled his hood back as a light came on, casting a dull illumination over the room. Neal approached him, asking, "Is it done?"
"As done as it's going to be," Michael replied. "We've rigged all the ships carrying Doom tanks and a few of the troop carriers."
"Where'd you rig them?"
"Base of the command towers, at the control trunks. One good hit and the charges blow, and they'll wipe out the main command systems."
Neal nodded and clapped his protégé in the back. "Good work, Michael. Very good."
Michael nodded, smiling, and said, "Now all we have to do is tell someone." He saw the strained look on Neal's face. "What is it?"
"They found Eolan this morning. He's been taken, and the communication building had been locked down. No slaves in or out."
Eolan had been their only connection to the outside world, relaying intelligence back to the Alliance as opportunities arose. It was seldom very much, but they hoped it would somehow be useful. They had been depending on him to send a message telling the Alliance where and how to hit the invasion force.
"So what do we do now?" Michael asked. But even as he did, he knew the answer.
"Someone has to fly to Arus and tell the Voltron Force. If they even exist." They, like most slaves on Doom-occupied worlds, had heard rumors of the return of the great warrior, mostly in snippets of overheard conversations between local guards. The Doom forces kept a tight lid on any Voltron-related information, but the slaves still held out hope. Hope that was reinforced every time they heard the guards mention that name. "Arus is the nearest free world, regardless, and that fighter that flew over you had to have come from there. Someone out there knows we're here. But we have to tell them what Lotor's up to. As long as that fleet's a threat, they won't come for us."
Michael nodded. "Who goes?"
Neal was silent for a long moment. He knew how Michael would react to his next statement, but he had to lay it out. "Michael, you're the only one I'd trust. You're the only man we have who's worked with the fighters."
Michael held up his hand. "No, wait. Wait a minute." He paused. "Neal, I've never turned you down before, but I can't do this. It's crazy. I'm not a pilot, and I can't leave Kala. I'm all she's got left. You know I'd do anything to help free our people, but this is too much."
Neal shook his head. "I'm sorry, Michael, but you have to go. If not you, then nobody can. And all our hopes, and everything we've done, will be for nothing."
Michael was torn. He knew how important the mission was, but he couldn't just leave his sister. Especially when he was missed at his shift, she'd be the first one they'd come down on. He couldn't let that happen.
"Neal, the only way I'm going is if I can take Kala with me."
"Michael…" Neal protested.
"Neal, that's it. Both or neither, take your pick."
Neal just stood there, unsure of how to respond. Finally, he nodded. "All right, Michael, if you can get her into the fighter with you, she can go."
Michael nodded. "All right, then. Now, how exactly do you plan on getting us into a fighter?"
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Driscoll sat in his ready room aboard the Berlin, watching the stars drift by as his ship orbited Arus. He was waiting for his fighter to be refueled before he went out again to search for Allura with the others. All day, he'd only been aboard for his duty shifts, and now to refuel.
Allura had been missing for the better part of a day, and the Voltron Force was making a maximum effort to locate her, with assistance from the starship's powerful sensor arrays, while the Timberwolf was left to guard the starbase.
The door chime rang and Driscoll turned to face the door. "Enter," he said. The door swished open, revealing the portly form of Captain Scott.
"Scotty," Driscoll acknowledged with a nod.
"You wanted t' see me, sir?"
"Yeah, Scotty, I did," the teenage Captain replied. "You know about Allura, right?"
"Aye, I heard. Sorry, lad."
"We've gotta find her, man. Without Allura, there's no Voltron, and the next robeast that comes along… They took her to their base, Scotty, and we've gotta find it. I need you to find a way to track these sons 'a bitches without depending on turbulence wakes."
Scotty nodded. "Aye, sir. Will ya be sendin' me those friends 'a yours then?"
"Not this time. We need a miracle, here, and you're the only bona-fide miracle worker we have."
Scott nodded. "Aye, sir. I'll get righ' on it."
Driscoll smiled. "Thanks, Scotty. I owe ya."
The engineer grunted. "Keep up like this, and yer tab'll be as big as Captain Kirk's."
"Oh, I've got a long way to go to match Jim."
Scott just shook his head and walked out.
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Commander Kozal watched another fighter squadron take off for a raid on Arus from the command center in the fortress. Every fighter on this mission carried lazon missiles. Regrettably, they were not topaz-enriched. Lotor had other plans for those munitions.
Among the gaggle of a hundred fighters that took off from Fighter Base Four, nearest the slave sectors, nobody noticed an extra fighter tagging along behind the others. Had anyone scanned it, they would have seen not one but two people in the cramped cockpit.
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Michael had been surprised at how easy it was to steal a fighter. There were so many on the tarmac that the crews and guards had difficulty keeping an eye on all of them. That, combined with the number of slaves forced to help prepare them for combat, allowed Michael and his sister Kala to sneak onto one of the parked craft.
There was a helmet and flight suit stored in it, indicating that the fighter hadn't yet been assigned to a specific pilot. He quickly put it on.
Getting on the fighter and looking like a pilot was one thing, but flying it was another. Michael spent most of the next half-hour studying the cockpit. He knew what some of the controls were already, but others took some figuring out. Finally, he was satisfied that he could at least get the ship airborne and off to Arus without blowing it up. Now all he had to do was get off the ground and get away.
Luckily, Neal's intelligence had been right on the money. Maybe twenty more minutes passed when one of the handlers came by and, seeing the occupied fighter, started giving Michael taxiing instructions. Not wanting to blow his cover, Michael complied, and was soon out of the maintenance area and in position for takeoff. He followed the rest of the squadron into the sky as he muttered, "Here we go, Kala. Stay down and hold on."
"Okay."
Now all he had to do was figure out how to land safely on Arus in an enemy fighter without getting himself and his sister killed in the process.